


Gentle Killer

by TheLOAD



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Beheading, Execution, Gen, Mad King Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLOAD/pseuds/TheLOAD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of his life Ryan can't help but wonder about his executioner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ryan

Ryan stared down into the basket, the bloodstains apparent on it and the stone around it. He never could find a way to wash the blood out, and it had long ago painted the surface. He shifted beneath the harsh noon light, the back of his neck starting to burn and the block beneath his throat pressing hard against his windpipe. He pulled at his binds, chafing his wrists even more than they already were and drawing a small trickle of blood which he could feel make it way down his hand. It wasn't at all the sort of comfort the former king was used to, though he supposed it was the perfect sort of comfort for a man condemned to die.

Beside him the executioner was working on sharpening the axe, dragging a stone across the blade and creating an awful sound. Ryan closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the bloodstains and the grating of metal on stone. Tried not to think about how he had only minutes left to live. He tried to focus on a happy memory, of when he was crowned or after his first victory in battle. Of celebrating with his friends, the same friends who had teamed up to take his throne and sentence him to death. But he supposed after what he had put them through they didn't consider him much of a friend anymore. He was just lucky that they apparently still liked him enough to give him a quick death.

He heard the executioner shift, heard the drums start, and opened his eyes, his heart quickening its beat. This was it, only seconds now. The executioner stood and walked over, his large frame casting an imposing shadow over the former monarch. Ryan swallowed hard, willing himself not to start shaking. It was bad enough that his people were going to see him die. They didn't have to see him afraid.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the executioner's boots and turned his head to get a better look. They were grey and over all unimpressive, and yet there was something deeply familiar about them. Ryan hazarded a glance up, trying to see who was killing him. The man was wearing a plain brown tunic and black trousers, as well as the traditional executioner's hood. Though Ryan had to question the need for that now. Usually the executioner's identity had to be protected, but he doubted anyone would hate the man who ended his life. Ryan looked at the man's hooded face, and found a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring back at him.

"Jack?" Ryan barely managed, his voice hoarse from disuse. Jack didn't say anything, instead hardening his gaze and placing a booted foot down between Ryan's shoulders and forcing him back down onto the block. The drummers shifted their beat, picking up the pace and Ryan could see the shadow move as Jack raised the blade high over his head.

Jack. Of all the people who were going to kill him it was Jack. Ryan felt his resolve crumble and he squeezed his eyes shut, trembling beneath Jack's foot. Jack, gentle, caring Jack, was going to kill him. The same man who couldn't put down an abandoned kitten was about to remove his friend and former king's head. It was Ryan's fault, he knew that, and if he had pushed Jack this far then what must he have done to the others. If he could turn Jack into a murderer, then he was a wretched friend indeed.

Ryan didn't even have time to react when the axe removed his head. There was a sting of pain on the back of his neck, the feel of blood running from a wound, then only darkness.


	2. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to do one from Jack's POV. Hope you like it.

Jack had spent hours sharpening and resharpening the axe, trying to get it perfect. He supposed it didn't hurt to sharpen it one last time before the deed needed to be done, so he sat off to the side, the hood blocking out most of his vision, and sharpened the axe some more. The sound of stone grinding against metal was an unpleasant one, and judging by the way Ryan shifted against the chopping block the condemned man agreed with that sentiment.

The crowd below the stage was abuzz with excitement, eager to see their much hated tyrant finally put down. Jack focused on his axe, catching the faintest glimpse of his own reflection in the stained metal. He didn't have anything to complain about, this was his doing. He had worked along side the others to overthrow Ryan, and when it came time to end their former friend and king's life Jack had volunteered for the job. The others were to be the new kings, Jack didn't feel he was suited for that job, and it wouldn't do for any of them to play the part of executioner. Hood or not, if word got out that the kings had executed their prisoner it could remind the people of Ryan's reign, and Jack didn't want that. They hadn't freed everyone from one tyranny just to instate another.

They had suggested someone else to it, hold a raffle and choose one of the citizens. To spare Jack the pain of having to kill a man he once had called a friend. But Jack had refused to agree to that. Ryan was hated, utterly despised by the people, and Jack didn't trust one of them not to falter on purpose and make a slaughter of the whole thing. He couldn't blame them for wanting their revenge, not after the things Ryan had done, but Jack refused to let the man bleed out in slow agony, his head only half removed from his body.

The drummers were getting ready to begin and Jack sighed, knowing it could not be put off any longer. He stood up, shifting the weight of the axe from hand to hand, and squared his shoulders as he walked over to Ryan. The axe was heavy in his hands, an unwelcome weight but one he knew was necessary. He stopped besides Ryan, standing over the man and waiting for the drummers to give him his cue. The crowd silenced, waiting breathlessly for the deed to be done. Ryan shifted, turning to look up, a look of shock coming to the former king's face as he met Jack's eyes.

"Jack?" He asked, his voice far weaker than Jack had ever heard, and he felt his heart break a little as he remembered the time they had spent together as friends, the games they would play when they were only lads.

But he also remembered what Ryan had done to their people. To Kerry and Jon. To Matt and Kdin. All the faces Jack would never see again, thanks to Ryan. He hardened his heart and shot Ryan a cold glare, placing his foot between the man's shoulders and forcing him back down onto the block, holding him there. He had come too far, prepared too much, to let Ryan ruin this by struggling. The drummers picked up their beat and Jack shifted, raising the axe high above his head. He could feel Ryan tremble beneath his foot and his resolve started to crack, some small, gentle part of him wanting to call the whole thing off and comfort Ryan. But it was all too late now, and so Jack brought the axe down with a heavy thud.

Thankfully, blessedly, the blow was a clean one, and Ryan's head tumbled into the basket without any issue. The body beneath Jack's foot went limp, as though it was a puppet whose strings had been cut, and it slumped down to the ground, blood oozing from the wound and pooling around Jack's feet. Slowly Jack released the handle of the axe and stepped back, the full weight of what he had just done coming crashing down on him as the crowd cheered. He had just killed Ryan. One of his oldest and dearest friends lay dead at his feet, thanks to Jack. Jack tried to tell himself that Ryan had brought this upon himself, that he deserved this fate after all the people he had tortured and killed, that Ryan was lucky his death had been a quick one at least, it was more than Ryan had offered many of his own victims, but Jack couldn't work past the thought that he had just murdered Ryan.

There was a call from the crowd to show them the head, followed by another demand to tie his body up for the world to see, and Jack felt suddenly sick. Did they really have so little compassion? Ryan had been a horrible king, yes, but he had still been a human being. He was dead now, wasn't that punishment enough for his crimes? Luckily for Jack his four friends, the four kings, settled the crowd down, informed them how that wasn't the monarchy they were planning on running, how the bodies of everyone, even their enemies, were to be treated with respect. Jack stopped listening to them for a while, instead just staring down at Ryan's body. He was gone, truly gone, and it was Jack's fault.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but I really like the idea of a Minecraft/Medieval AU Jack wielding an axe. He looks like he could get some good weight behind it and make it an excellent weapon. That was part of what inspired this. I also like the thought of Jack as an executioner, since he's probably the one who fits that role the least.
> 
> Leave a review telling me what you think, and also if you want a second chapter from Jack's POV.


End file.
